


About Time

by yikescaninot



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Drunken Confessions, Getting Together, Humor, It's Suga's Favourite, Iwaizumi Wears a Frilly Apron, KuroDai Week 2019, M/M, Mentions of Alcohol & Drinking, Otherwise Really Tame, Rated Teen for Mentions of Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 21:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18747460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yikescaninot/pseuds/yikescaninot
Summary: “Kuroo and Sawamura—” Bokuto crooned, interrupted by Kuroo’s hand slapping over his mouth.“Bro, buddy, pal,” Kuroo cut in quickly before any more could be said, his face slowly turning as red as his old jersey. “Can we not do this right now? Can the most embarrassing thing in this apartment please be Iwaizumi’s apron?”KuroDai Week 2019 Day 1: Secrets/Confessions





	About Time

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted pancakes. Someone on Discord mentioned Iwaizumi in a frilly apron. _This_ happened. *gestures vaguely* I have no regrets. 
> 
> Enjoy!

When Daichi woke up, he was warm. Too warm, almost. He reached a hand out, patting around for the blanket to throw it back but only felt carpet, a hand, and a leg. Blinking wearily, he squinted through sleepy eyes to look at where he was and why limbs not his own were anywhere near him. 

Judging by the posters on the wall and the piled bodies on the floor, he was in Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s apartment. And judging by the way the weightlessness of being drunk was crash landing into the pain of a nasty hangover rather quickly, he could only assume that he never made it home from the little party Oikawa had thrown for them to watch their kouhai play at Nationals. 

Across from him, Bokuto was sprawled out with his upper body under a pushed-aside table, Suga using him as a pillow, legs tangled with Hanamaki’s who was facing the opposite direction and drooling on Matsukawa’s hip. He could hear movement and voices from the direction of the kitchen, but when he lifted his head the world tilted and he groaned faintly putting it back down. Regretting every decision that led him to that point, he turned his face into his pillow then froze when it moved. 

“Sa’mura?” Kuroo mumbled close—too close?—to his ear, sounding like he was starting to feel their night of drinking as well. 

He turned his head carefully to not upset the world balance again, more alert now that he could feel Kuroo curled up behind him, chest to back, thigh to thigh. One of Kuroo’s arms was folded under Daichi’s head and the other was tucked against Daichi’s chest, almost like he was clutching Daichi close even in his sleep. Daichi’s stomach did a weird flop that he wanted to blame on the alcohol. 

“Hey, buddy,” he tried whispering back, tongue hardly cooperating. He patted Kuroo’s arm to make up for the lacklustre greeting. 

“Shh, it’s too early,” was the only response he got, mumbled into his hair as Kuroo settled back in. 

Daichi hummed slightly, holding Kuroo’s arm to his chest like a stuffed animal. He was still too drunk to deal with unrequited feelings, he decided, impending hangover or not. Maybe in the morning... The warmth was comfortable now and he relaxed back against Kuroo, enjoying the feeling of being held as he fell back asleep. 

“Love you.” 

“Love you, too.” 

 

When he woke up again it was because Suga tripped over his and Kuroo’s legs in a mad dash to the bathroom. He grunted and looked around, still tucked back against Kuroo’s chest. Bokuto was sitting at the table nursing a large cup of coffee and pointing a shit-eating grin in their direction. From what he could tell, Hanamaki and Matsukawa were still asleep but they had moved to almost mirror his and Kuroo’s position. 

“Kuroo, move,” he grumbled, trying to untangle himself from the mess they were in, caught in blankets nobody had bothered using and the stilts that were being passed off as Kuroo’s legs. 

There was a noise of protest and Kuroo held on tighter, refusing to wake up. There was a snicker from the table, and Daichi could feel his ears burning, trying to pry Kuroo’s arm off of him carefully. 

Kuroo jolted awake when Daichi started sliding his upper half away from the koala hold he was in. When he realized who he had been wrapped around, his cheeks flushed and he instantly started untangling his limbs, not meeting Daichi’s eyes. 

He frowned in confusion at Kuroo’s quick retreat but brushed it off as Kuroo not feeling well, which made sense considering he felt like he’d gotten hit by a truck himself. Still, it didn’t feel great, having his crush so eager to get away from him when normally some casual affection was commonplace between them. He glanced back in the direction of the bathroom but the door was still closed. 

“So…” Bokuto drawled from his seat, before slurping his coffee loudly. 

“Can you not, Bo?” Daichi grimaced and pushed himself up to sit, wiping a hand down his face. Sounds were not his favourite at that moment. “How are you so awake? Didn’t you and Suga try to outdrink each other?” He gestured vaguely in the direction of the bathroom as if accusing Bokuto for not sharing the same state as Suga. 

“Details, details,” Bokuto dismissed easily, waving a hand. He dropped his chin to rest on his palm, wiggling his eyebrows at the two. 

Kuroo used the couch behind them to stand up on shaky legs, taking a moment before nodding to himself and walking to sit at the table, too. Iwaizumi appeared from around the counter, dropping a plate of western-styled pancakes at the centre of the table, and wearing— 

“Oh my god, you actually kept the apron!” Suga cackled from the bathroom doorway, looking like the wooden frame was the only thing keeping him upright. 

Their group of friends had done a gift exchange their first Christmas in University. When Suga had pulled Iwaizumi’s name, he had taken it upon himself to find the most garishly feminine apron for the only one who could both cook and chase away those that couldn’t (an important skill when Oikawa or Bokuto tried helping). It had mint green and pastel pink stripes, lined in a white material that had pink hearts—the same material used for the ample layering of frills around the bottom and the ties around the waist. On the chest of it was a cartoonized bear, complete with a bow on one ear and drawn on angry eyebrows (so it would match Iwaizumi’s scowl, Suga had said). The words ‘Mama Bear’ were embroidered with a flourish on one of the pockets. 

Iwaizumi glanced down at it then shrugged a shoulder. “Why not? It does the job.” When Suga looked like he was going to laugh again, Iwaizumi smirked and winked at him. “Plus it really brings out the colour of my eyes.” 

There was a chorus of laughter from the two still tangled on the ground and from Oikawa who was walking out of his bedroom. 

“Let it be said that Iwa-chan is not one to be worried about his manly gorilla image,” Oikawa sang, sliding around Iwaizumi to pour himself a cup of coffee. Even though he had bags under his eyes and moved more sluggishly than normal, his hair was coiffed perfectly. 

Daichi glared at it, unsure how it swooped so artistically when everything hurt. Blood pact to a demon, probably.

“Why does Bokkun look like someone gave him candy?” Oikawa looked around the room, cradling his coffee close. He pulled a face, instantly looking at them all accusingly. “Did somebody give him candy?” 

“Nobody would dare give him candy first thing in the morning with both Iwaizumi and Sawamura here, Oikawa,” Matsukawa said, not bothering to lift his head from where it was resting against Hanamaki’s shoulder. 

Oikawa’s shoulders relaxed a bit at that and his glare turned curious, looking between everyone as if he could figure it out himself given enough time. “So what’s going on here, then?”

“Kuroo and Sawamura—” Bokuto crooned, interrupted by Kuroo’s hand slapping over his mouth. 

“Bro, buddy, pal,” Kuroo cut in quickly before any more could be said, his face slowly turning as red as his old jersey. “Can we not do this right now? Can the most embarrassing thing in this apartment please be Iwaizumi’s apron?” 

Daichi stared at Bokuto, then at Kuroo, then to everyone else. Iwaizumi seemed to have the same look of amusement that Bokuto had, and albeit looking a little bit sick, so did Suga. A knot of unease worked into his stomach and he slowly lifted himself up to sit on the couch as his mind raced for something that was said or done while they were drinking to spur Bokuto to waggle his eyebrows so  _ knowingly _ . He looked back to Kuroo who was hiding behind his bangs and a mouthful of pancake, any skin visible a bright blushing red. 

“There’s nothing wrong with my apron.” Iwaizumi arched a brow, flipping another pancake onto the next stack he’d started. 

“And I am  _ so _ glad you think that. Truly. A gift to us all,” Suga said with a crooked grin. 

He felt like he was missing something. 

Bokuto tore one of the pancakes apart with his fingers, eating it piece by piece studying Daichi’s face. After a moment, he leaned back in his chair and gaped. “Wait, do you not  _ remember _ ?” 

“Bo, stop being a pain and eat your pancakes. Suga, get your ass in here and sit down. Tweedle-dee, Tweedle-dum, move at your own pace,” Iwaizumi listed off, bringing the second serving plate of pancakes to the table. He snorted when both Matsukawa and Hanamaki lifted a thumbs up in his general direction before pulling a blanket back up over their shoulders.

Suga looked like he was steeling himself for a long trek when he pushed away from the doorframe, before slowly ambling across to the table, grumbling under his breath all the while. Daichi only caught the words ‘you’ and ‘my ass’ before he also got up to go to the table, his stomach lurching at the movement. They both sat at the table and pulled pancakes from the stacks onto the plates in front of them. 

“Remember what?” Hanamaki asked from underneath his blanket when nothing else was said, his voice nearly a croak. 

“The fact that Kuroo said he loved him,” Bokuto said before Kuroo could stop him. 

“The fact that Sawamura said it back,” Iwaizumi added.

“The fact that, even though there was a  _ perfectly _ good couch to sleep on, they decided to sleep on the floor because ‘they couldn’t both fit on it,’” Suga said, over-exaggerating his air quotes, before shoving half a pancake into his mouth, his expression bordering on euphoric. 

“Well isn’t  _ that _ interesting.” Oikawa’s eyes darted back and forth between Daichi and Kuroo, suddenly looking wide awake and invested. 

Daichi cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck nervously, glancing across the table to Kuroo. He blinked in surprise at the intense look Kuroo was giving him. 

“You love me?” Kuroo asked, holding onto the pancake in his hands like it was the last real thing in his world. 

“You said it first,” Daichi grumbled, cheeks flushed with some amalgamation of relief, excitement and embarrassment. 

“You looove me,” Kuroo sang, his tone teasing but his eyes wide with wonder. 

“About time,” Suga said under his breath, but still loud enough for the table to hear. 

Daichi looked over at him flatly before levelling the same look at Kuroo. “I take it back.” 

“Aw, c’mon, Sawamura! You two have been in love for almost as long as I’ve known you.” Bokuto grinned from behind his coffee cup. 

“Nope, no idea what you’re talking about. Love, what? Sawamura, who?” Daichi took a bite of his pancakes. “Still planning on finding a different apron, Iwaizumi?” 

Suga let out a scandalized gasp that had half the room flinching, and he whipped around in his seat to look at Iwaizumi with a look of utter betrayal. “You  _ wouldn’t _ !” 

“Traitor.” Iwaizumi scowled at Daichi before turning back to Suga to do damage control. “Suga…” 

With everybody’s attention deflected, Daichi shot Kuroo a small, soft smile filled with promise of a  _ later _ , and stretched his legs out under the table to press against Kuroo’s, content to be eating pancakes and listening to Oikawa and Bokuto jump back and forth between siding with Iwaizumi or Suga. 

 

Later when nearly everyone was back to crowding around the TV to watch Nationals, Kuroo watched Daichi refill one of the chip bowls, resting his hip against the kitchen counter. 

“And you thought you could keep secrets from me,” Kuroo teased, leaning close. 

“Are you forgetting the part where you apparently confessed first?” Daichi arched a brow at him. 

“Conveniently so, yes.” A grin spread across Kuroo’s face. At Daichi’s unimpressed expression, he seemed to deflate a little. “So what now?” 

“ _ Now _ we finish watching volleyball.  _ Later _ you’re taking me out on a date. After that?” Daichi shrugged and picked up the refilled bowl. “I’m sure you’ll think of something nice.” He smiled crookedly and patted Kuroo’s chest as he stepped around him and joined the others in the living room. 

Kuroo followed shortly after and sat close to Daichi, pressed close to his side with a watered down, content-looking version of his usual smirk.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This might be the only KuroDai week fic I get to write because it's gotten crazy at work, but dangit! Last KuroDai event I mentioned my love of french toast. This time it's pancakes. What breakfast food will it be next time?! Who knows. 
> 
> I hope you got a laugh out of reading this. Kudos/Comments appreciated. ｄ(・ω・｀)


End file.
